“It can work,” Kara commented. “If they do notice us, they will see us in one of the emperor’s ships and think us to be from Anure and thus their ally.”
“Unless they figured out we forged that message and know we didn’t just dodge Anure’s ships, but took them,” I replied. I didn’t know why I thought this Queen Euthalia wouldn’t be that easy to trick. I’d built a rebellion on the stupidity of the regional governors Anure had installed. “I really don’t like this plan.”
“I don’t like it, either,” Sondra agreed.
“Don’t worry,” Ambrose repeated, more firmly, with some exasperation. “I have this handled. This is all how it’s meant to go.”
“We should’ve sailed straight to Yekpehr with all the vurgsten we have and blown it off the rocks,” I grumbled. Stick with my strengths. I’d been a fool to agree otherwise.
“You agreed to do this part my way,” Ambrose reminded me, green gaze shadowed and menacing as forest growth gone wild.
“My way has gotten us this far,” I stubbornly insisted.
“Your way is to smash skulls with a rock hammer,” Ambrose said, giving me a lofty look. “You can’t hammer Queen Euthalia into agreeing to marry you.”
That method actually sounded more likely than me somehow charming her into it.
“Maybe if she’s daft from concussion she won’t notice how ugly you are.” Sondra grinned.
“Ha ha.” Movement on the water caught my eye and I shifted for another perspective on it, telling myself I wasn’t looking for a line drawn there. Water. Waves. Pink and orange seabirds. I was fully out of my depth. More the fool me for trusting in magic—or trusting in anyone but myself. Might and strategy won the day every time. Hadn’t Anure proven that? I should’ve stuck to my strengths. I had a very bad feeling. Something was out there.
“Are you sure they can’t see us?” Sondra asked. She’d followed the direction of my attention, squinting suspiciously also.
“Didn’t I say as much?” Ambrose smiled with confidence and Merle cawed agreement.
I exchanged a glance with Sondra. She shook her head minutely but put a hand on her sword.
“Still…” she said, staring at that odd place on the water again.
“Do I tell you how to plant your vurgsten charges?” Ambrose asked, full of righteous indignation—a stance spoiled by the sea breeze tossing his unruly curls into his face. He pulled them away with some dignity. “I can disguise one ship from human eyes.”
“Maybe the Calantheans ain’t so human,” Sondra drawled.
I might’ve laughed, if there had been anything funny about it. I stopped Ambrose’s response to Sondra with the simple expedient of putting a hand on his head and turning it so the wizard looked in the right direction—and at the fleet of boats that had appeared, heading directly for us. I let go when he stilled in shock.
“Something has changed,” he murmured. “How extraordinary.”
Good thing I’d let go of his skull, as I might’ve been tempted to crush it with my bare hand. We were well and truly fucked this time.
Small skiffs and coracles fanned out from the island, forming two rows and—not incidentally—creating a funnel directing our ship straight toward the island. A lilting song drifted from them over the gentle waves, sweeter than any I’d ever heard, even back in the halcyon days at golden Oriel. Not even from the silver-voiced Sondra—who now gripped the rail, sword forgotten and deeply carved grief contorting her face.
If the sound made my burnt coal of a heart ache for long ago, I couldn’t imagine how she must feel, confronted with that loss. I put a hand on her back, as a kind of support, maybe. She didn’t start at the rare gesture, instead sagging a little and leaning into my side, putting her head in the fold of my shoulder despite the unyielding armor I wore.
So odd, to have her feminine weight against me, and I felt like a clumsy oaf, but I slid my hand around to her shoulder. A safer place to touch my friend who’d suffered so much with me and yet hearing a song sweetly sung cleaved her like a mortal blow. We didn’t speak. There was nothing that could be said—and none of us handled sympathy well. We had no place to put it.
As we sailed closer, it became clear that the boats were all piloted by beautiful young people, youths and maidens wearing flowers and scanty silks. The sheer beauty and sensual innocence of the display dug the blade further into my gut. Who were these people who sent lovely youths out to greet a warship?
So easily slaughtered with one salvo of vurgsten. Of course, our weapon remained secret and they couldn’t know what it would do to them. But any ship would have arrows to rain upon them. They might be turning out to escort what they thought must be an ally—but then why disguise them until now? I scanned them for weapons, not seeing any. That didn’t mean they weren’t a threat.
As if reading my thoughts, Kara asked, “Shall we fire on them, Conrí?”
The ruthlessness that had served me so well for so long must have been left on the other side of that invisible line in the water. I couldn’t do it. Mutely I shook my head. Even Sondra didn’t argue. I think she didn’t have it in her, either, if she heard anything beyond her own pain.
Ambrose had said the Calantheans were noted for their beauty. That had been an understatement. They looked like nothing from the world I knew, waving with languid grace as the ship passed, slender limbs tanned from the golden sun and robust with health. Most were nearly naked, clothed in little more than flowers and scraps of sheer silk. They wore flowers in their hair in all shades like the birds—pinks and blues and yellows, sometimes several colors on one head. Petals of all shades floated on the serene surface of the sea, making it seem like a tapestried carpet rolled out to welcome us in.
I knew better than to believe it. Like those treacherous flowers of the Mazos jungle, so sweet and pretty, they lured the unwary into honeyed, sucking death.
I struggled to fight off the charm, not quite able to. The enchanting song, loveliness, delicious redolence of blossoms in the warm and gentle air, all wrapped me up, making me want to drop my hammer, toss my bagiroca into the sea, and lay myself down in peace.
“Magic?” I ground out, pushing through the haze and startling Ambrose. He’d been muttering to Merle about prophecy, something about the currents of the future, and … fish? Ambrose frowned and shook his head slowly. Then nodded. Finally he shrugged, grinning boyishly, undaunted by the scowl I leveled at him.
“There’s magic here aplenty. Thicker than I’ve ever felt it in my life, permeating everything.” Ambrose positively beamed, and I clenched a fist hard by my side so as not to punch him. “It’s wonderful—like tasting a fine cut of beef when I’ve been on gruel for months.”
“I’m delighted for you,” I bit out. Beside me, Sondra snorted, straightening again and raking back her hair that snapped like a banner of pale gold in the ocean breeze. Good to see her standing on her own again.
“But I sense nothing targeted at us,” Ambrose added, apparently realizing he danced on a thin line. “Look! They seem to be … welcoming us and guiding us in.”
“Odd behavior toward an enemy they can’t see,” I said slowly and deliberately.